Liar Liar Read online

  “No way,” Kayla said. “I mean, why would I? Even if I don’t get in trouble for lying to the police, Drummond would kill me.”

  “I don’t think you’d be prosecuted for lying if someone was blackmailing you,” Nicole said. “As for Andy, if he’s caught and locked up, he won’t be any threat to you.”

  Kayla gave Nicole a disgusted look. “Can you promise me that’s really going to happen? That he won’t be out in a few days and come after me?”

  Nicole didn’t answer. Kayla did have a point. It was the same concern Josh had about her own testimony. But she knew there must be a way to protect witnesses who receive death threats.

  “I thought so,” Kayla said, taking Nicole’s silence as confirmation. “Follow me.” She turned and went through a side door that led directly into the kitchen. Without a glance back, Kayla hurried through the swinging doors into the restaurant. Nicole found herself in the middle of a cramped, overheated kitchen that smelled of old grease and all the food that had ever been cooked in it. Two men wearing hairnets were working over a grill. Neither looked up. Spotting an open door at the back, Nicole walked out. As she made her way around the building, she thought of the sweater she’d left behind. Briefly, she wondered where it would end up. It was one of her favorites—a robin’s-egg-blue knit hoodie.

  She walked into the parking lot, then made a dash for her car. Next to it were half a dozen motorcycles, no doubt belonging to the young men inside. She backed out of the space and sped onto the street. In her rearview mirror, she saw Andy’s brother and his friends come out of the restaurant and hurry toward the parking lot, presumably on their way to their motorcycles. One of them had her sweater bunched up in his hand. Once she turned the corner, she couldn’t see them anymore. She immediately headed for the freeway and, once on it, pushed up her speed.

  Nicole was cruising along at seventy miles an hour when she saw a small fleet of motorcycles gaining on her. To her alarm, she noticed that traffic was slowing. At a curve in the road about a mile ahead, the freeway appeared to be a standstill.

  It was only a few minutes before the gang was in the next lane, peering into her car. When the car ahead of her advanced a few feet, she took advantage of the space to risk an abrupt turn into the carpool lane, which was moving briskly. A sign on the railing warned: “This lane is limited to vehicles with two or more passengers. Violators will be fined $481.” Whether or not the cyclists were willing to follow was a moot point. They were blocked by the bumper-to-bumper lane between them and Nicole.

  Luck was with her. The Highway Patrol was nowhere in sight, and she soon left her pursuers behind. She exited the carpool lane just past the bottleneck where an open truck had flipped over, dumping a load of tomatoes across the road.

  Only now, as Nicole cruised along, did she realize with both satisfaction and trepidation how vital Kayla’s story was to Doshan’s defense. As soon as she got home, she’d put in a call to Sperantza and tell him what she’d learned. It would be up to him to figure out how to get Kayla to testify and how to protect her if she did.

  Twelve

  Nicole pulled into the driveway at 5:30. When she started to unlock the front door, Josh opened it, clearly upset. “Where’ve you been? I couldn’t reach you on your cell, so I called your office. Joanne told me you’d taken the day off. I’ve been out of my head with worry.”

  Nicole followed Josh into the house, struggling to find something to say. She plopped herself on the couch before she responded. “I’m really sorry. I was going to tell you, but I never found the right moment. Then this morning, we were both in such a rush—” As she said this, she realized how lame this sounded. “And I knew you’d be upset,” she added.

  “Damned right I’m upset. And you still haven’t told me where you were.”

  “In Hemet. I found some people there who can help Doshan’s defense. They wouldn’t tell me anything on the phone, so I had to go out there.”

  “You had to go out there? How is this your problem, Nicole?”

  “I’ve told you. Doshan Williams is innocent, and I have information that can help clear him.”

  “Let me get this straight,” he said. “Aren’t you already taking care of that by appearing as a witness?”

  Nicole was running out of patience. “I’ve explained this: Mary Ellen said one thing in court, then she told me something else. The prosecutor can pretty much dismiss my testimony unless there’s more evidence to back it up. Doshan’s investigator didn’t find anything, but I did. Andy Drummond, one of Doshan’s teammates, pulled the exact same trick in high school. He blackmailed a girl into falsely accusing the quarterback of rape so that he could get the position himself.”

  “Look, if this guy is the real killer, then you’re putting yourself in danger. And here’s what I’m thinking: This isn’t the first time you’ve done this. Are you going to do the same thing when the next ‘injustice’ catches your eye?” He made finger quotes when he said injustice. “Is this going to be your life? Because if it is—”

  “If it is? Say it. Then you don’t want to marry me?”

  “Your words, not mine,” he said. His face was flushed, and she could see how angry he was. “But you do have an over-developed sense of moral outrage. You’re impulsive, and it’s making me crazy. I love you. I want to be with you. But I want a normal, quiet family life. I’m not sure that’s what you want.”

  “Of course it is.”

  “Then take a look at what you’re doing.” He glared at her. “You promised you’d leave this case to Doshan’s lawyer once you agreed to testify. But you can’t stay away from it, can you? You found information that could clear Doshan? Then why in the hell didn’t you turn it over to the defense attorney’s investigator? It’s his job to work this case.”

  Nicole was barely able to hold on to her temper. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m an investigator myself, and Sperantza’s investigator is either lazy or incompetent. I told him about things he should be looking into, and he just blew me off.”

  “You’re still a rookie, remember?” Josh was all but shouting. “You need to put in more hours and pass a test before you qualify for your license. So why can’t you just stand aside and leave this to the professionals?”

  For the first time, it struck Nicole that this was her fault. She’d allowed Josh to think he had the right to tell her what she could and couldn’t do. “Maybe you’re right,” she said quietly. “Maybe I’m not the one for you.”

  “Quit putting words in my mouth. I love you no matter what. But this thing you did behind my back? It really pisses me off.”

  “What if I had told you? What would you have said?

  “I’d have tried to talk you out of it. But if you wouldn’t listen, I’d—I don’t know what I’d have done. Here’s the bottom line: You can’t keep putting yourself in danger. You just can’t! Why couldn’t you have chosen a normal occupation like becoming a realtor or a teacher? Those are great occupations for a woman raising a family.”

  Without a word, Nicole walked past him and went upstairs to change. They didn’t discuss it again. He barely looked at her during dinner. She made a few attempts at conversation, but after a brief response, he’d lapse into silence.

  They went to bed and lay with their backs to each other. Nicole was wide awake, too upset to sleep. Josh’s derision of her work had stunned her. It made her realize, for the first time, that he didn’t understand her at all. And maybe it was mutual. She thought she knew him, but the Josh she loved wouldn’t have said that.

  As soon as his breathing slowed and she was sure he was asleep, she got up. Tiptoeing around the bedroom, she grabbed some clothes, basic cosmetics, and her overnight case, and went downstairs to pack. She wrote a note and left it under her engagement ring on the kitchen table. The note said:

  Josh:

  I couldn’t sleep because of this rift between us. I think we need time apart so you can reconsider our engagement. I’m going to be an investigator, not a real
tor. You have to accept that.

  I don’t see myself as jumping from crisis to crisis. But I do sometimes act on impulse—call it moral outrage, if you like. That’s who I am, and I wonder if you can live with that. I guess you’re wondering, too.

  I can’t imagine ever encountering another situation like Mary Ellen’s murder. But if I did, I wouldn’t behave any differently. So I want you to take time to consider whether you want to marry me.

  Meanwhile, I’ve gone to stay with Steph. Believe me when I say I love you.

  Always, Nicole

  With little traffic, it took only twenty minutes to drive to Steph’s apartment in West Hollywood. Nicole arrived a little after 3:00 a.m. and let herself in with the key her sister kept under a flowerpot by her front door—a practice Nicole had warned Steph against a number of times. She tiptoed in, carrying her overnight bag. She went into Steph’s study, which doubled as a guest room, set her bag down and pulled out the futon. She must not have been as quiet as she thought because Steph appeared in the doorway, yawning, stretching and rubbing her eyes. She gave Nicole a puzzled look. “What’s up?”

  “Fight with Josh,” Nicole said, tears spilling down her face.

  Steph put an arm around Nicole and steered her into the living room where the two of them settled on the sagging couch that Steph had found in the alley behind her apartment house.

  As Nicole was trying to pull herself together, Steph got up, went to a cupboard and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

  Nicole looked at her sister incredulously. “For God’s sake, Steph. At this hour?”

  “You’re a wreck,” Steph said. “This will calm you down. Or I could roll us a joint. Your choice.”

  “No, no. Whiskey’s okay, I guess. I just don’t want to go to the office smelling like I’ve been up drinking all night.”

  “A little toothpaste, a little mouthwash,” Steph said. “You’ll be fine. Now tell me what happened.”

  Nicole did just that, recounting her scene with Josh.

  Steph was quiet for a long moment before she said, “Your old pal Reinhardt and I talked about this before he went back to England. He couldn’t understand why you’d chosen Josh. What was it he said? Oh, yeah”—at this point Steph affected a posh English accent—“I’m surprised she’s settling for suburbia. I thought she wanted a bigger life.”

  This made Nicole laugh. “Did Reinhardt imagine he was giving me a bigger life? He lived on another continent. Even if I’d gone over there to live with him—something he never did suggest—he was off the grid most of the time, engaged in some kind of covert ops. He wasn’t about to give me any kind of life.”

  “True,” said Steph. “But he did have a point. I mean, Josh is a lovely guy. He’s gorgeous, he’s nice, he’s smart, and all that. But don’t you sometimes wonder if his overprotectiveness is going to cramp your style?”

  “I don’t know,” Nicole said. “I love him, and we have so much in common. And he gets me—” She broke off, realizing this was a claim she no longer could make. If Josh really did get her, they wouldn’t be having this fight.

  “Listen to me,” Steph said. “The things I admire about you most are your chutzpah, your fearlessness, your sense of right. As a kid, I was so proud to be your little sister. And then last year you cracked that ring of crooks. You get off doing this stuff. Admit it.”

  “What are you talking about? It was terrifying, and I hated every minute of it.” Nicole paused, reconsidering. “Okay, it was great at the end when they caught those guys and locked them up. The rest was a nightmare. But none of that matters. I’m in love with Josh. I want to be with him. I’m still hoping there’s some way we can work this out.” All at once something occurred to her. “If we’re not back together soon, I’ll have to look for another place to stay.”

  “I don’t see why,” Steph said. “You’re welcome to stay in my guest room as long as you want.”

  “Thanks, Steph,” Nicole said. “I know that. But after I testify, it will attract the paparazzi. Given my history with them, they’ll follow me here. I’d never put you through that.”

  “Quit worrying. You and Josh will be back together in no time. He’s crazy about you. You’re not going to break up over this.”

  “I don’t know. He said some things that made me wonder if we’re right for each other.” Nicole’s voice trailed off. She put her untouched glass of whiskey on the coffee table and got up. “I’m whacked. Let’s go to bed.”

  Nicole woke at 6:00 a.m., exhausted from too little sleep, and checked her phone. No messages. She’d hoped for word from Josh by now, saying, “Come home. It was all a misunderstanding.” But it wasn’t a misunderstanding. The idea of losing him made her feel ill.

  When she got to work, she called Sperantza to tell him she’d learned something that might help Doshan’s defense.

  “I don’t think it’s wise to talk by phone,” he said. “Let’s discuss it over lunch. I’m downtown today. If you can make it, we could meet at the same place. 12:15.”

  “Okay,” she said, “See you then.” All morning, she kept checking her phone for messages. Each time she found nothing, she felt a little worse. She tried to reassure herself that she’d done the right thing leaving the way she did. She’d been honest in the note she’d left. She couldn’t change who she was, and, even if she could, did she want to? But what if it cost her Josh? Once again, she found herself tearing up. On her way to the women’s room to splash water on her face, she encountered Joanne in the hallway.

  “Why Nicole,” Joanne said. “What’s wrong?”

  “Allergies,” Nicole said. “Drippy eyes.”

  “Santa Anas,” Joanne said. “Isn’t it awful? I had to take two allergy pills this morning.”

  Nicole hadn’t even noticed the Santa Anas. Usually, the hot winds inflicted her with a runny nose, bad dreams, and a sense of foreboding. Much worse was the destruction they wrought. On a regular basis, Santa Anas turned a few sparks or a discarded cigarette into a wildfire that decimated thousands of acres of Southern California’s forests and canyons. In her distraction, Nicole had no idea what the weather was like outside the ever-cool tower where she worked.

  By the time she arrived at the restaurant, Sperantza was waiting in a booth in a second dining room at the back of the restaurant. Here it was relatively quiet.

  As soon as Nicole was seated, a waitress arrived to take their orders: short ribs, the daily special, for Sperantza, and a niçoise salad for Nicole. Once they were alone, Nicole described her meetings with Alejandro and Kayla.

  Sperantza’s eyes grew wide, and he started to grin. “Nicole, this is exactly what we needed. We can subpoena Kayla as a hostile witness. Along with your testimony, this will create reasonable doubt.”

  Nicole put down her fork. “How? She’ll deny telling me anything; she might deny ever meeting me. She’s terrified of Drummond. He said he’d kill her if she told anyone.”

  “If we subpoena Kayla, she’ll have to appear. We’ll ask about Drummond and her rape charge against Alejandro. She can deny all she wants. But I’ll call you as the next witness, and you’ll explain she told you she’d do that because Drummond threatened to kill her. Then you’ll relate what Mary Ellen told you. Your testimony will show he manipulated both girls into lying to the authorities and, in Mary Ellen’s case, perjure herself in court. That pattern of behavior points to Drummond as a likely suspect in the murder.”

  Speranza stopped talking to take a swig of coffee and another bite of his meal. His eyes were darting about, and it was clear he was considering his strategy. He swallowed, put his fork down. “Obviously, Drummond is off our list of character witnesses. An amazing bit of detective work on your part, by the way,” he said. “I’m surprised Slater missed this.”

  “Didn’t Slater say that Drummond had an alibi for the night of the murder?” Nicole said.

  “He did. I’m going to talk to him about that, make sure he checked it out thoroughly and didn’t
just rely on Drummond’s word. I’m beginning to wonder if he cut corners on this investigation.”

  Nicole shrugged, remembering Slater’s dismissive attitude when they’d spoken by phone. It was clear he hadn’t put much time into this case. “Even if he’d found the Hemet High connection,” she said, “it might not have done him much good. Kayla only talked to me because she recognized me from the tabloid stories last year. She thought I was some kind of celebrity.” Nicole laughed. “But she sure wasn’t happy when I suggested she testify in court.”

  §

  She spent the weekend with her sister, hanging out, trying some new restaurants, and catching a couple of movies. All of that time, she kept checking her phone for a message from Josh, but there was no word.

  On Monday, two days after she’d left Josh and two days before she was to testify, Nicole used her lunch hour to return to the house and pick up more of her things. As she’d expected, Josh was at work and the house was empty. Her heart ached as she walked through the place she’d come to regard as home. It was immaculate, tidier, in fact, than when she was in residence. She climbed the stairs to the bedroom. The bed was made, the bathroom spotless with freshly hung towels.

  She gathered up some jeans and casual tops plus enough work outfits to last a week, tossing them on the bed. Then she went into the bathroom for the rest of her cosmetics and makeup. Since she was only taking two suitcases, she had to leave some items behind, but she’d made a significant dent in her wardrobe. She debated leaving her closet door open, to let Josh know she’d been there and moved out more of her things but decided against it. The idea she might have left for good could push him into making a decision before he was ready, and that could easily backfire.

  Nicole headed straight for the short-term rental she’d arranged the day before. She’d looked at some online rental sites, not expecting to find much available for immediate occupancy. But she’d found something right away—a furnished, one-bedroom condo that was attractive and just a few blocks from her office. She’d taken it immediately, paying a week in advance. From the empty state of the closets and dressers, she concluded that no one lived here. Someone had invested in it for the rent it would pull in—$150 a night.